


DND

by TabbieWolf



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Anal Sex, Lupin Interruptus, M/M, OT4 implied, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, consent is important, fluffy snuggly porn, handjob, jigoe, snuggly criminals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:08:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23171458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TabbieWolf/pseuds/TabbieWolf
Summary: Jigen and Goemon get some quality alone time. Solidly porn without plot, though some fluffy snuggly feelings snuck their way in.
Relationships: Ishikawa Goemon XIII/Jigen Daisuke
Comments: 2
Kudos: 68





	DND

**Author's Note:**

> My Twitter timeline has been full of Jigoe lately and I had to indulge. Two criminals where killing is part of their jobs just being utterly into one another and being all soft about it is adorable.
> 
> (I’m an OT4 fan, so it’s implied here, though this is solidly just the gunman and the samurai being intimate.)

Goemon awoke with Jigen wrapped around him, snuggled into his broad chest. The cheap motel they were staying in had two double beds, and Lupin had claimed the other one by promptly sprawling across it and solidly falling asleep the moment they’d walked in the door last night. Goemon absentmindedly ran his long fingers through Jigen’s hair, and the gunman snuffled and smiled, blearily opening his eyes.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Goemon apologized softly.

“S’okay,” Jigen ran his fingers up Goemon’s arm, tracing over the samurai’s, resting them against his partner’s hand as it tangled in his hair. Goemon felt the calluses on the marksman’s trigger fingers; it was a familiar, comforting sensation. Anyone disguising themself as Jigen would have a hard time against Goemon or Lupin or even Fujiko, now that they’d spent so much time lingering over each other’s calluses and scars.

Jigen gently squeezed Goemon’s hand, then glanced over to the other bed, then to the empty bathroom. “Lupin already leave?”

The shrug was slight, but Jigen could feel it as he rested against Goemon’s chest. “I just got up. Maybe he is getting breakfast.”

“Probably meeting with Fujiko to prep for the next job,” Jigen groaned into his partner, his beard soft against his chest. Goemon found his fingers tracing over it, down the side of Jigen’s face, and the gunman shivered.

“Don’t start what you can’t finish, samurai,” Jigen nuzzled into Goemon’s shoulder, letting the slender fingers trace from his chin down his neck.

Goemon huffed, a small smile tracing his lips, running his fingertips over Jigen’s collarbone. “When did you turn into Lupin?”

Jigen raises an eyebrow. “I hope that was a joke.”

Goemon smiled, the very lightest hint of a blush coloring his cheeks, his fingers continuing their quest down the middle of Jigen’s chest. He gently caressed up one side, feeling the hair and the scratches and the scars from battles fought long ago. He found the gunman’s steady heartbeat and rested his palm against it. Jigen had wrapped his hand over Goemon’s arm, the thick scars running over his shoulder and down the upper part of it an ever-present reminder of a future not yet written. He kisses at the samurai’s neck and shoulder, humming gently, closing his eyes.

The two stayed like this for awhile, content, half-awake, wrapped in cheap motel bedsheets and each other. Maybe they could just stay like this, leave the world behind them, retire. Goemon already had a very respectable, if small, cabin in the northern forests of Japan. Jigen let the thought of this tickle his mind a bit, realizing that the idea of leaving either Lupin or Fujiko behind —while momentarily quite satisfactory — left a strange, empty feeling in his heart. He pulled his leg up, stretching it and bumping against Goemon’s thigh.

“Mmmnn,” the samurai mumbled, leaning over to nibble and kiss at Jigen’s cheek. The gunman nearly laughed, surprised by the action, and moved his hand down Goemon’s side, resting it just over his narrow hip, his broad fingers spread and gripping lightly. Goemon raised an eyebrow.

“Remember what I said about finishing what you started?”

Goemon hummed, gently repositioning himself to kiss Jigen. The gunman leaned into it, and Goemon could feel him smiling broadly as he did so. He tasted like cigarettes and whiskey and a bit like the vending machine-based “meal” they’d pulled together the previous night. He tasted like a retirement in the mountains somewhere, he tasted like the wind as they escaped Zenigata for the millionth time, he tasted like a little hole-in-the-wall Japanese bakery in the East Village of New York City, he tasted like a ramen shop in Tokyo so many years ago...he tasted like home.

The kiss seemed to last for eternity, and then it was over, and Goemon looked at Jigen’s eyes as their lips parted. Jigen’s cheeks were flushed, his dark eyes shining. He leaned in again, his hand against Goemon’s neck, pulling the samurai into him, his kiss more urgent this time. Goemon can feel Jigen pressing into his hip, the friction between the two of them not nearly enough. They pull apart, both breathing a bit heavier than before.

Had they both experienced that first kiss the same way? Goemon almost wants to ask, but Jigen is gripping his shoulder and biting and sucking at his neck and chest, and any words between the two of them can wait until later. Goemon’s hips thrust, just slightly, against Jigen’s leg, and then he blushes fiercely at the grin he can feel against his neck.

“You want me to check Lupin’s bag?” Jigen’s question is gentle, but urging a quick answer.

Goemon pauses, letting his mind run through why on earth that would be necessary, before realizing what his partner is asking. “Oh! Yes,” his response is short, but the Japanese tickles Jigen’s ears and he grins. The samurai was never great with English when the group was intimate with one another and Lupin would often run odds on who could get the man to switch languages first.

Jigen rifles through Lupin’s duffel, passively wondering exactly how the thief crammed so much stuff in there and why on earth he needed whatever the squishy object his fingers had just brushed over was, before finding what he was looking for. Goemon had sat up and leaned forward, watching his partner expectantly. His black hair brushed over his brown eyes, his cheeks flushed, a small smile on his lips. Jigen’s heart felt like it skipped a beat as he turned to the samurai. The words on his lips — some joke about Lupin’s opinion of necessary supplies, probably — vanished, and he rushed forward to wrap his arms around Goemon, pushing him back against the mattress. Goemon squeaked at the sudden change of position, but lost any commentary to Jigen’s mouth on his again.

Goemon feels the hardness of Jigen’s dick against his own. He thrusts against it, and Jigen does the same in response, the two men throbbing against one another. Jigen swallows Goemon’s moan, then runs his fingers over his cheek. “You ready?”

The samurai nods, words in any language escaping him, and Jigen repositions himself, unrolling the small bottle from his fist. He coats his fingers with the lube, then sets the bottle on the mattress and runs his hand up his partner’s inner thigh, spreading his legs. Goemon makes a noise somewhere between a huff and a moan as Jigen runs his fingers under his ass. Goemon feels Jigen’s beard against his chin and he leans into him.

“You ready, samurai?”

Goemon hisses as he feels fingers against his opening. “Ready, marksman,” he responds, his words breathy but an octave higher than usual, the affection in the nickname warm on his tongue.

Jigen eases his finger in, feeling the samurai tense and then relax, a shiver running through him. Another finger followed shortly after as Jigen listened to his partner’s breathing, moans, and squeaks. Goemon was humping at the air now, and Jigen curled his fingers forward and smirked as the action caused Goemon to lean back, groaning. Another finger and Goemon practically hisses, “Ready, marksman.”

It only takes a moment for Jigen to pull a pillow under Goemon’s rear, lifting him up, and he leans into him. He grabs the bottle of lube again, reapplying it generously, before tossing it aside and easing himself into his partner. The samurai grunts, grabbing at Jigen’s shoulders, pulling the gunman into him. Jigen inhales deeply at the sensation, adjusting to it and watching Goemon. Sweat beads his forehead, his mouth slightly open in a pant.

“You okay?” Jigen thrusts again, still gentle, his hand brushing over his partner’s dick. Goemon pushes into the motion, eyes closed, moaning.

“Ye-e-es,” The younger man leans into his partner, his lips brushing the older man’s beard as he insists in a breathy whisper, “Fuck me, marksman,”

Jigen tenses at that, his face flush, as he rubs his partner’s dick in time to his thrusts. He picks up his pace, feeling his partner twitch and throb around his dick and in his hand. They’re both moaning nonsense words into one another, the breathy “I love you’s” and fond nicknames quiet but urgent, trying not to slam the cheap motel headboard against the wall.

“Ah! Daisuke—“ the samurai thrusts again, rocking against the gunman, coming into his hand and against his stomach. Jigen’s climax follows barely a moment later, and he hisses through his teeth as Goemon’s legs twist around him. The two men stare at one another a moment, sated, pressing their foreheads together. Jigen lets himself collapse onto his partner, sweat and skin mingling.

They hear a click, and the motel room door opens. “I got breakf—damn, guys, that’s a helluva sight to get back to.”

Jigen rolls his eyes, both at Lupin’s return and the blush that has utterly overtaken Goemon’s face. He kisses the young man’s lips, smiling, and then grimaces as he turns to the thief. “Way to ruin a tender moment, asshole,”

“It’s what I’m here for. You two have fun?”

“Very much,” Goemon responds, still blushing, brushing his hair over his ears.

“Good job, Jigen, he’s still in Japanese mode.” The thief sets the bag of food on bed he’d claimed as his, shrugging out of his jacket. Jigen huffs, lifting himself off of his partner, and heads to the small bathroom to clean up and take care of other morning matters. Goemon glances at Lupin, who raises an eyebrow, and the samurai quickly follows the gunman. Lupin chuckles, pulling his breakfast out of the bag and sitting on the bed, scrolling through the notes he’d been jotting on his phone. Having his boys more relaxed today would be helpful, considering the interesting text he’d gotten from Fujiko about an upcoming exhibit in Prague...


End file.
